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Sky Byte's (Many) Blunders
One of the primary skills of leadership is delegation, and one of the primary necessities of delegation is trust: trust of one's subordinates to perform adequately and appropriately. Of all the areas of his work that Ultra Magnus excels, this is one area in which he struggles consistently. One of the ways that he addresses it is by repeatedly fine tuning manuals. Field manuals; training manuals; code manuals; codex upon codex of carefully ordered information, with citations ranging from the blatantly overdirective (i.e., conscientious instructions on how to perform basic tasks that no bot needs to be instructed upon) to the absurdly obscure (i.e., abstruse footnotes drawn from buried administrative procedurals that no bot would know, let alone expect to find in a manual). Ultra Magnus often creates these personally, for the simple and expedient reason that no one else would. Sitting at a desk in the administrative office he frequently occupies when his duties bring him to the Decagon instead of to some of the other outposts demanding his attention, he is currently engaged in the painstaking process of copy-editing the latest version of the field manual, which he will shortly be shoving down the throats of everyone (and their little insecticon, too). Ultra Magnus isn't the only one burying his face in documentation. Prowl happens to have just finished up a long training session with a group of cadets and walks into the office with his attention focused on finishing up evaluations of their recent performance during the sessions and examinations. It's a tedious process, but essential to determining who's going to be sent where. It's a good thing Prowl is as patient as Magnus when it comes to documentation. He sits down at a workstation with a brief nod of greeting toward his colleague, though neither of them are the type to ask 'what are you working on?' or 'how was your day'? Nope. Ironhide comes into the office, and noticing both Prowl and Ultra Magnus, immediately goes into a salute. Old habits die hard, and he's been in the military long enough that his habits are practically indestructable. "Aron-hyde reportin' fer duty sir!" It's true. Ultra Magnus glances up when Prowl enters, returns his nod with the simple gravity with which he is inclined to accord him, and then returns his attention to splicing data into potentially digestible chunks. Small talk is not noted for efficience. It's not until he comes to the end of a completed thought that he thinks to say anything, and when he does, it is assumptively right to business, which only makes sense considering his audience. Whatever he might have been about to say, though, is arrested by Ironhide's entrance. He surveys him and, like a thoughtful officer, stands at his station to accept his salute and return it according to, of course, the correct forms. "Thank you, Ironhide," he says, mildly. The lack of small talk is never taken as a grudge. In fact, Prowl would always prefer less of it. He finishes the evaluation he was working on and looks up at Ironhide as he arrives, nodding briefly. "Ironhide." "Ah finished patrol through Kaon," Ironhide reports to Prowl and Magnus. "Found the remains of one 'o them gladiator pits. Place was totally empty and abandoned. Nothin' but sour energon dryin' on the floor." He frowns. "I keep seein' more an' more of these poppin' up down there but no leads." "I trust you completed a full sweep," Ultra Magnus says, lifting his gaze with the faint frown about his expression the kind that lingers in thought. His knuckle rests briefly on the edge of the desk, as if he has paused partway in reaching for something. "Kaon is highly disordered. Anything that connected the location of the abandoned facility with any of your previous discoveries?" "And did you collect any useful bits of evidence?" Prowl asks, his tone even. He doesn't seem as concerned as he perhaps should be. Does he know something the others don't? "There has to be a pattern of some sort, whether or not those ruffians realize it." "Yep," Ironhide replies to Ultra Magnus's first question. "I got a few more things down in th' evidence locker. A few tapes that were picked up from recent matches, an' a badge one o' the gladiators were wearin'. Other'n that, there's just nothin' to be found. It's like the whole group just evaporates after th' matches 're over." There is consideration in the expression that Ultra Magnus pitches in Prowl's direction, but he says nothing in particular; rather, he returns his look to Ironhide with a slight nod. "Investigation will naturally continue ongoing, particularly in the matter of the badges and any other paraphernelia evidence you happen to discover," he says. He makes a low chuffing sound, like a soft compressive expulsion of air, and states, "I am disinclined to believe miscreants are evaporating, generally speaking." Speaking of miscreants, the three mechs will find a particularly zany one barging into their conversation impolitely. Prowl will remember the multicolored floating shark as the one who tried to deliver a piano to his office in Rodion (but failed, miserably). He 'swims' towards them, optics wide, fins flailing. "YOU!!" He says pointedly. "I SMELL you!! How.. How can you expect me to pay this!?" He's waving a ticket around angrily. Oh, wouldn't it be nice if all those second-rate miscreants who somehow thought that killing for sport was fun or even permissible on -any- level just -evaporated-? That would be quite convenient, yes. And speaking of miscreants...Prowl just fixes the strange shark with a stone-faced, emotionless gaze. "You damaged state property, sir. Therefore you are responsible for repairing the damages you caused. Surely you expected it?" Ironhide is less tactful. He unholsters his gun and points it squarely at Sky-Byte. "How the slag did you git in here you floatin' tooth factory?!" Ultra Magnus lifts a hand in a gesture of restraint, turning the weight of his frown upon Sky-Byte -- more restrained than Ironhide, less neutral than Prowl. "If you would care to register a formal complaint, you must do so through appropriate channels," is what he has to say about the existence of, apparently, reparations. In so far as there is any quality of emotion in his tone, it is possible to detect exasperation. Sky-byte sniffs the air loudly, ignoring the blaster pointed in his face. "Ugh, you all REEK. Of boredom. Primus, how do you live with that stench! I would have STASIS LOCKED by now!" He glances over at Ironhide. "Oh, except you, you just smell like.. bad vocabulary." His optics widen and he clenches his fins. Yes. He just. He just did that. "Formal complaint!!" He baps Magnus on the helm with the ticket. "My aft!!! I can't pay this, and it wasn't even my fault!!" "He's assaultin' an officer!" Ironhide calls out before trying to tackle Sky-Byte to the ground. Prowl continues to regard Sky Byte with calm indifference. "Sky Byte, anyone -else- would be fined for the same if they had caused damage. And if anyone else wanted to appeal the citation or file a complaint, they would have to go through the appropriate channels as well. What makes you think you deserve better, hm?" He sighs. "Ironhide, stand down. There is no need for violence at this particular juncture." "AAAH!" Sky-Byte yells, and Ironhide will only manage to perhaps get his helm stuck in the shark's massive mouth. The shark makes muffled noises, swinging his head back and forth. He waves his fins, and then all of a sudden, a fountain of low grade energon spouts out of his eyes and showers the two officers. The shark has now bent his body in an impossible matter to mimick the posture of a praying monk. Or, perhaps a coward begging for his life. His optics are nearly bugging out of his head. Ultra Magnus gets bapped on the helm with a ticket. Ultra Magnus blinks. He has little time to react otherwise before Ironhide is in motion. "Assault on an officer in the course of his duties," he states, staring contemplatively at them both. His voice is a composed counterpoint to the flare of temper that he ... may be narrating. "Technically I believe there is an additional penalty to be assessed for such violations performed, hmm," he glances around the room in which they currently stand (or fracas), "in a government building." Ironhide wasn't really aiming to get a look at Sky-Byte's dentures but we'll roll with it. At Prowl's command he -reluctantly- pulls away from the shark, hand still on his weapon, giving a steelly-eyed glare to the begging aniform. "Just lemme at 'im, sir. I'll teach 'im some manners," he asks of Prowl, restrained by command like a well-trained guard dog. Prowl watches Sky Byte's ridiculous antics, his face still as if it were set in stone. He shakes his head, putting something down on a datapad. "Assault against an on-duty officer. For now I'll just increase your fine to 4,000 shanix but if you can't seem to restrain yourself then you may not be able to avoid arrest." He nods to Ironhide. "Get him out of here." "NOOO!!" The shark flails, floating upward like a bloated fish, out of Ironhide's reach. "F-Four thousand shanix?!! I can't pay that either!" He sobs, low grade energon raining down on them from the bizarre shark's optics. He floats towards the lighting fixture on the ceiling, moaning pitifully. Lifting a fingertip to flick some of the energon splater off the bulk of his high pauldrons, Ultra Magnus narrows his gaze, a shift of disgust accompanied by a breath that sighs past the teeth of his frown like encapsulated sufferance. "If you would /prefer/ incarceration," he intones, "by all means. Continue." "Just a minute, I'm gonna git a rope," Ironhide mutters, stepping out of the room and headed towards the armory. "Wait, what?!" Sky Byte howls, "you're going to put me in jail for CRYING?! Primus almighty what is this world coming to...?! F-Fine! Fine! I'm trying, I'm trying...!" He tries desperately to the stop the fountain of tears, but is spectacularly ineffective at doing so. "No," Ultra Magnus says with an attitude of blandness that seems at least distant kin to patience. He doesn't seem particularly impressed by the tears, but then -- empathy is not really high on his list of virtues. "But if you are unable to pay your fines. . ." He gestures, indicatively, and then takes a half-step back, glancing around the office for some material that he can use to wipe down the unsightly mess sluicing down his chassis. What? Sky Byte can't even hear you, Magnus, for he's lodged himself on top of the lighting fixture and is still bawling his optics out. "Jail me crying! I .. can't BELIEVE it!" He's still trying wipe the tears from his optics miserably, but the very thought of being jailed for crying makes him sob even harder. It's a Sky Byte teary waterfall. Ironhide runs back in with a rope. He looks down at the floor. "Y'know, I think we're gonna need a bucket an' a mop too. Be back in two shakes." He's down the hall again. "Not for this pitiful display of unwarranted emotion, no, but for a lack of fines due being paid." Prowl basically reiterates what Ultra Magnus said. Ugh. This mech was pathetic. Where was Ironhide? "Please leave, before Ironhide returns and forces you to." "You are embarrassing yourself," Ultra Magnus states as fact. He glances after Ironhide, smearing more of the flying splatter, this some of which had sprayed across his faceplate, and attempts not to look too visibly repelled. It is with extremely limited success. "Among other things." Nope, still didn't hear Prowl. He thinks they're trying to put him in jail for crying. He's flailing his fins pathetically as he slowly comes down from the light fixture, making like he's actually going to leave. But no, the shark is thinking he doesn't want to pay his fine. At the last second, he darts down some obscure hallway marked 'Authorized personnel only.' Ironhide chases after with a rope, lasso and bucket. "GET BACK HERE!" Prowl shakes his head, sighing but not going after him. Though he does activate automated security in that particular sector of the base. "I suppose he really did prefer incarceration." he comments dryly. "Evidently." Ultra Magnus moves to the edge of the hallway to look down it, observation rising to a stentorian call of, "Obstruction of justice, resisting arrest," because he is helping. And now, the wacky shark is trying to steal something. He's carrying several data pads in his mouth, trying to 'swim' for the nearest exit. The automatic security measures have set off an alarm which is now blaring, alarming Sky-Byte. He deadpans shakily, then makes a break for the nearest window, causing it to shatter as he goes through it. Now there's glass stuck in his snout. He makes a muffled sound of pain as he tries to float away from the building. Ironhide isn't about to stand for this. "You better hope I rope you!" he shouts, swinging the lasso over his head and trying to grab Sky-Byte by the tail. "'Cause if I miss I'm gonna SHOOT YOU DOWN!" Arcee realizes that there's some sort of insanity going on. She isn't quite sure what it is, but she hopes it's distracting enough that no one notices her quietly make her entrance during the din, and begin heading down a hallway to go pick up some things Elita left for her to take back to Altihex. Because...she doesn't want to deal with anyone in this building. Nope. "Mmggahhkk!!" The shark half howls, since he's carrying a data pads in his mouth. He dodges, and Ironhide misses grabbing his tail but the lasso wraps around his head. "Mmmggghh!!" Sky Byte surges forward with an amazing amount of strength and speed, perhaps dragging Ironhide behind him. Alarms blare, and Prowl facepalms. How can anyone concentrate with this sort of chaos going on? Ugh. What was this mech thinking? That he could get away with just waltzing into the -Decagon- and stealing information? Nope. No sir. Security drones deploy from storage bays on the outside of the building and fly after him, forming up on his sides with their guns charged and ready to fire if he fails to comply. "HALT CITIZEN. SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY, AND YOU WILL NOT BE HARMED." Ironhide's tough as an old mulebot, and he's not going ANYWHERE. Digging in his heels he pulls with all his might, trying to keep Sky-Byte from going any further. There's a tense moment of back and forth, the fish gaining a few inches, then Ironhide pulling him back, but the middle of the rope starts to wear out; the woven metal cables start to snap, only a few at first, but then more and more, faster and faster-- *POP*! Ironhide falls backwards, dropping the mop bucket he still has on one arm, skidding backwards a short distance from the effort he put into the pull. Sky-Byte, on the other hand, is probably going to be launched like a missile now that he's unimpeeded. Splattered with low-grade energon that has accumulated upon his otherwise clean and regulation paint in unlikely places, Ultra Magnus strides forward down the hallway into the ensuing fracas; as the drones form up and issue their command, he adds, "Resisting arrest," in a continuing catalogue of Sky-Byte's many charges, "appropriation of classified intelligence, theft of government property..." He looks around the general chaos and spends a moment standing there, thinking about what he might add to the list that covers the sheer ... what ... of what is happening right now. A little wanly, he tries: "Disorderly conduct, intent to cause a breach of the peace--" Oh, there goes the rope. "Destruction of government property!" adds Ultra Magnus very seriously. Prowl is cataloguing everything Ultra Magnus is saying. Well not as he is saying it but more as he is keeping track of them himself. Oh--looks like his fine just went up to 10,000 shanix thanks to the broken window. Those ain't cheap you know! And perhaps Sky Byte will be grateful for the rope snapping and launching him forwards, because the drones are attacking him now and he at least is propelled out of their shooting range. "MmgghhhaahhaaAAAH!!" the shark howls, as he crashes straight through the window of an adjacent building. And then out the other side, through a parallel window. The bots in there will be stunned to see a shark with a lasso around his neck and data pads in his mouth flying through their office. Then the shark nose dives right into a freshly deposited pile of afterburner grease, only his tail poking out of the giant, odorous pile of waste. Arcee is so glad for Sky-Byte right now. He's giving her the perfect opportunity to grab her belongings without getting haranged by the usual bunch of winners in this place. Of course, it helps that she didn't need to break any door codes or rules; she already has credentials to be here. She heads to a storage locker area, and provides the passcode to open the hatch. Ironhide transforms into vehicle mode, taking off to find out where Sky-Byte has ended up. He'll bring in his mech or DIE TRYING. As Ironhide roars out after Sky-Byte, Ultra Magnus knuckles a little at his head, possibly trying to scrape stray bits of schmutz from his faceplate that might otherwise prove risk to his optics. "More destruction of property, probably," he says distantly as he stares, for a moment, out the window, and then turns back to face the general office population in their general flabbergast. "Ironhide is in hot pursuit. All well in hand. No more amateur street theater. Return to your duties." The drones speed after him, though the force of that launch was enough to propel Sky Byte faster than they can fly. However, they find him in the pile of grease, and immediately begin working on finding those datapads and making sure they are either recovered or destroyed so that no one potentially sees classified information....even though it might just end up being a bunch of weird pirated vids belonging to some slacker beat cop who doesn't know how to keep his things tidy. (Magnus might want to get on that case.) At any rate, if Sky Byte manages to keep any of it for himself, he'll only find someone's incredibly slapstick parody of one of his plays. Meanwhile, as Arcee is busy opening her locker, Prowl happens past on his way to a communicube conference with Sentinel Prime and a few other senators. He stops at the sight of her. "Arcee." Arcee is nearly finished cleaning out the locker when Prowl happens upon her. She startles slightly, then nods in acknowledgement, trying to remain calm. "Yes sir?" Well, they won't need to destroy the data pads. Two of them are pretty much broken beyond repair, and the third one, well, it's just that, a slapstick comedy of one of Sky Byte's flop plays. If Ironhide tries to retrieve the poor shark, he'll have a very hard time. Afterburner grease that's been left out for too long hardens into a thick and pasty material not unlike clay. His tail wriggles pitifully, and muffled sounds can be heard coming from the pile of waste. Just before Magnus returns to the building, he'll see two tiny little Sky Bytes floating across from each other, one with a halo and the other with devil horns, engaged in a slap fight. "I told you it would end badly!" the one with the halo shouts. "It was totally worth it!" the devilish one pleads. Then they disappear, with a puff of smoke, as if they never existed. "Report. What progress have you made on your assignment?" Prowl replies. "Are you in need of any additional equipment?" "I'm just here to pick up a firearm and some ammunition that Elita had left here for me," Arcee says simply. Then, as an afterthought, she adds, "I haven't seen Blast Off anywhere. Not really sure where he went, but he'll probably resurface." Glancing away from the broken remains of the window with a slow shake of his head, as if to dispel the lingering chaos by virtue of head motions, Ultra Magnus starts back toward the original mess, which he is probably going to clean up himself because otherwise he would have to wait for someone else to do it. He pauses en route, still covered in general ook, as he marks Prowl and Arcee with his glance. Prowl looks exasperated. "I'm afraid you don't understand. This -isn't- a matter of -waiting- for him to just pop up. He's a -criminal-, he's on the run from the law, and he's NOT an idiot. He's not going to just come waltzing into your optical field some cycle because he feels like it. -You- have to search for leads, track him down, and corner him in a place where he has limited escape options. If you want to be part of this team, if you want to do this sort of work, then you are going to have learn to utilize the intel we've given you to gain -more- intel and eventually hunt down your target. Do you understand -now-?" "...Wait, what happened to 'we have confidence in your ability to find a way to do this'?" Arcee asks. "Now you've decided you're going to tell me how to do this? Didn't I ask you that when I was here? Could have sworn I did." Clank of his step heavy on the floor as he walks up to join the other two, Ultra Magnus says mildly, "Do we have an issue here?" He'd probably look more imposing with less gunk all over himself. Sky-Byte is helping detract from his dignity even now. Ironhide is driving slow. He has a bucket stuck on one wheel. "CONSARNIT!" Sky Byte is still stuck in the pile of afterburner grease. His tail is waving back and forth unhappily. He is hoping that the person to come drag him out isn't that guy with terrible vocabulary... Prowl sighs. "I do have confidence in your ability currently, however, it's my job to keep you accountable, and check up on your progress. But if I don't see any progress within a reasonable amount of time, then that confidence tends to dwindle." "And that's part of the reason for the existence of a chain of command. I am -trying- to help you adjust to your new position, and see to it that you're able to at least fulfill your duties as necessary." He pauses, sighing slightly again. "I do want to see you succeed. To move up." Arcee has absolutely no intention of hunting down Blast Off. None. Zero. Odds being what they are, she currently stands a much better chance of putting a few rounds into Drift before she'll even consider asking anyone where Blast Off's been. "Well, I appreciate the motivation behind it, at any rate," she answers, closing the locker. "He's an expert marksman. To even stand a single chance of landing any shots on him, I'll need to improve my own skills. Which I've been doing. If you need proof, I keep recordings of ALL my time at the weapons range in Altihex," she comments. "Also, he's a master of self-defense. And he is space-capable. I'm neither of those things. I know you want me hauling him in here triumphantly, but it's going to take me a while." "You certainly appear to be well equipped to deliver both excuses and attitude, however," Ultra Magnus says, his voice so mild the words themselves but deliver any bite all on their own. "Prowl, you may wish to reconsider this assignment. Clearly, this is a matter of personnel assessment on your investigation, not mine. . ." He leaves the 'must' hanging in the air, shaking his head as he turns. "Trust me, escaping into space isn't an option that will end well for him." Prowl states. It's true. The last time he tried it...well yeah it didn't end well for him. "You could use that against him." The officer's expression hardens though, at her apparent nonchalance on the matter. "How can you talk about it like that? Blast Off is a -dangerous- criminal, and the longer you let him remain at large, the more danger you are putting your fellow Cybertronians in. If you really are so lackadaiscal and uncaring when it comes to these things, then why are you even here? Why are you an Autobot? -Why- do you want to be a part of this?" Suddenly his optics narrow. "If you -really- wanted to get this done, you wouldn't have made absolutely NO progress over the past couple megacycles. And you wouldn't be making excuses and telling me that 'it's going to take you a while'....so what is it, Arcee? Is there something about Blast Off that you feel strongly about? Do you think he's been the victim of some sort of conspiracy theory, is that it? Or, Primus forbid, do you have some sort of -personal- connection to him?" Then his expression returns to a more neutral one as he glances at Magnus. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe she'd rather be assigned to a different target. Drift, perhaps. He's quite dangerous as well." Arcee just gives Magnus an uninterested look as he strolls right into the conversation, COMPLETELY uninvited. And she has the same completely 'when is this going to be over' kind of faraway look as Prowl presses her for commitment. But when Prowl mentions Drift, Arcee perks somewhat. There's been some sort of interest shift, there. Maybe she finds this idea somewhat more appealing. "I believe your commanding officer may have asked you a question," Ultra Magnus suggests to Arcee with his expression gone remarkably neutral. He studies her aspect, though little enough of his own thoughts are revealed by his expression. Perhaps some generalized tension. Existential dourness. The gentle beleaguerment of an otherwise dignified officer covered in shark tears. "Several of them." Don't worry, Magnus, the shark tears are good for the armor. They're like wax--they make armor extra shiny. Prowl takes note of the pique of interest at pursuing Drift. As he thought. "Oh, I see how it is. We ask you to go after Blast Off, and you're all excuses. But Drift? You're -all- over that, aren't you? Despite the fact that Drift is much stronger and more dangerous. Blast Off's armor, as you know from the file, is barely even adequate for standard melee combat. You get into close quarters with him and he's history. Drift, on the other hand, is known to have a generous arsenal of both melee and ranged weaponry, as well as strong armor and a tendency to go berserk at unexpected times." He stops closer to her. "So tell me, Arcee. What is this about? Have you been...colluding with the enemy, soldier?" Arcee answers the questions and accusations with a single question of her own. "Am I being detained?" Because if the answer is 'no', she's definitely not sticking around. "It is standard procedure to detain persons who refuse to answer questions as to ongoing investigations in colloquial interview," Ultra Magnus states, not unlike having a walking copy of a regulation book ambling along behind you, frowning at people. It's not entirely clear whether he means this as an aside to Prowl; he is still watching Arcee. "However, it is highly irregular for a citizen soldier bound by duty to so refuse. Are you bound by duty, under orders, or are you a suspect to be detained?" "I don't -need- to detain you." Prowl says harshly. "You are a soldier under -my- command, therefore if I order you to stay put until you have answered all of my questions, you -will- do so or be punished. Now," "Answer. The question." "I'm not answering anything, you've treated me terrible from the moment I offered assistance," Arcee says defiantly. "Like I said, I'm trying to help you succeed at this. Because -you- chose this, Arcee. And in order for you to succeed, you -need- to be able to do this sort of work." Prowl tries to reason with her. "Now, answer the questions, and -that's an order-." At this point, Ultra Magnus says nothing. He turns his gaze to Prowl, his stance shifting to a modified parade rest, his hands folding behind him, his faceplate expectant. "I'm familiar with Blast Off, if that's what you're asking. I mean, we're friends," Arcee admits. "But I thought you knew that. I thought you gave me this assignment so I could prove I could carry out atrocities under order or something." An optic ridge shoots up at this statement. "-No-," Prowl says firmly. "Actually, I did -not- know you were 'friends', and no I was not trying to prove that you're capable of committing 'atrocities'." He groans, exasperated. Good -Primus-. "Look, Arcee. He is -not- your friend. He is simply trying to use you to escape from the law and from the justice he -knows- he deserves. I don't know what he's told you, maybe that he's been framed, or that there's some sort of -conspiracy- going on, but I can assure you that it can't be farther from the truth. Please," He gives her pointed, yet genuinely concerned look. "Don't let him manipulate you into protecting him. It will only send you down the same destructive path he's on. Do you want to end up like him?" "Atrocities," Ultra Magnus repeats in a voice gone particularly blank. Incredulity has washed the frown from his expression, which takes some doing. "Arresting a fugitive from justice, some of whose crimes are actually /by admission/, is an atrocity?" It would seem that Prowl's softer-tack approach, appeal by reason, seems to have more of an effect on Arcee than the hard-tack approach. "No, you're right, I...I really don't want to end up like that." She glances over at Magnus, and shakes her head. "Well I didn't know!" she exclaims. "He helped me out when I had the bomb implanted in me, and at other times, too. I thought that maybe you were trying to pressure me into leading him into a death-trap so I could...I don't know, 'prove' worthiness, or something. Look, I don't really expect you to understand, but after the things that have happened, suspicion has definitely become the new normal for me." "Excellent question, Magnus. I suggest you give it some thought." Prowl sighs, turning to Arcee as he says this. He seems to be willing to let this one slide, given the fact that she's fairly new to all this. "Alright, fine. I'll let your insubrodination slide...just -this- once. However I want you to understand that just because someone helps you, doesn't mean they actually do -care- about you. Clearly, he wants you to trust him so that you'll believe everything he says. -Don't- fall for it." He pulls out a datapad and holds it up in front of her. It has pictures of three mechs: Skyline, Vantage, and Sublight. Two Autobots, and one neutral in that respective order, all murdered by Blast Off. "And he nearly -killed- Blurr. What if those people had been -your- friends? This is what we're dealing with, here. The longer he's at large, the more danger is posed to your fellow citizens, is that clear? This is not a matter to simply shrug and excuse oneself from." Arcee looks a bit confused about something, but whatever it is, she doesn't ask about it because she's already treading on thin ice. She probably doesn't need to make this situation any worse. "...Okay." Ultra Magnus observes quietly, "And if there is a possibility, however remote, that this fugitive is actually telling the truth about some or any of his crimes ... it will never come forward if he remains at large. There is a reason we want him alive; no one in this office has any desire to be accessory to murder." Arcee just nods in agreement with Magnus and Prowl. She doesn't doubt that Blast Off's done some bad things. The Blurr connection, though...that doesn't even make sense to her. But he's done more than enough to be considered a criminal. If Arcee wasn't sure about that, Prowl would have been happy to show her the footage from Blast Off's old residence. And how -utterly merciful- Blast Off had been toward a virtually helpless Blurr. Not. He nods at Magnus' words. "Yes, he will have the opportunity to answer the charges brought against him. However, the longer he attempts to evade justice, the worse his punishment is going to be when he does get caught, which he will, one way or another. Now, if you still have any doubts regarding the legitimacy of the charges, we would be happy to provide you with the evidence necessary to relieve you of such doubts." Nod slight, Ultra Magnus takes a step back, his frown returning to his features in a troubled cast. He has fallen quiet again, but this time it is largely a silence where it seems he feels little more need be said. "Alright, well...I'm returning to Altihex. Was there anything else to discuss?" Arcee asks. "Unless you'd like to see any of the evidence or need any further equipment, no." Prowl says, stepping away. "Look, I know this will be hard for you, but trust me the worst is yet to come." he sighs again. "But no one is forcing you to stay with us, of course. It was your choice to join, and whether you stay or not should be yours as well. Just know that if you do stay, you will be expected to follow orders, and complete your assignments as directed." He turns away. "Best of luck to you." Arcee seems to take this a bit better than she had the first time around. "I'll check in," she lets the officers know, before she heads out back to Altihex. It's an improvement, however minor.